Yesterday, I went to sleep an average everyday construction worker. Today, however, I woke up and was disgusted at what I saw. I was larger than I could imagine. I must have weighed four-hundred pounds! I was fat, but I couldn’t stay home today, so I tried to get up out of bed but found that difficult and darn near impossible. After the long struggle to get out of bed, I went upstairs to get something to eat. But I was exasperated when I reached the top of the stairs. When I got the energy to clamber into my chair, I found myself incredibly and unusually hungry. I couldn’t stop eating. I ate so much that I literally burst.
I woke up in a cold sweat. It was merely a dream. A dream that I was practicing gluttony, one of the seven deadly sins. After going upstairs to get a drink, I returned to a blissful slumber.
I slowly opened my eyes, blinking away the sleep that still remained, to see that morning had finally arrived. I then proceeded up the stairs to the kitchen to get my usual breakfast- eggs and steak, and of course, my cup of steaming coffee. After eating, I made my way to my truck in the garage. After clambering into the vehicle, I started the diesel engine to hear it’s rumble of life. I pushed the garage door opener button and proceeded to work. Today my construction company was to be working on a large job across town.
When I arrived at the job site, one of my employees met me at the driveway.
“Good morning boss.”
“Morning, are you the first one here?”
“That I am Sir.”
“Please, call me Tom. Sir is much too formal”
“No Problem Sir.”
A few moments later, the rest of the crew arrived and we began to work. We worked on the main walls of the house, putting drywall up and insulating the exterior walls. That took up much of the day, considering the house was quite large.
“Let’s start cleaning up for the day, we can go home early today and I will still pay you for a full day’s work.”
Everyone was fine with this decisive statement. We put all of the tools back into the trailer and covered the left over fiberglass insulation. After everyone was gone, I locked the house and trailer and continued on my way home. On my way home, I was cut off by a speeding man. I was furious. So I proceeded to follow him home to ask him why he did such an inconsiderate thing. When he finally arrived at his destination, he got out of his car and I exited my truck, and he came up to me and said,
“What is your problem?”
“You cut me off on the expressway.”
“So you followed me home?”
“I wanted to tell you to be more careful in the future.”
The man was obviously offended by what I had said, so he pulled out a gun and shot me. That’s when I awoke with a jerk. I sat up in my bed holding my head, trying to figure out what had happened. I had been shot and killed by my own anger, the second deadly sin. I looked at my clock, it read: 8:59am. I was late for work!
As I hurried out of my basement room, and upstairs to the bathroom, I stubbed my toe on the last step and continued on my way, cursing because of my neglect. As I finished getting dressed, I began making breakfast. Only cereal today. I finished my cocoa puffs and went to the garage to start the truck. At that time, I realized that my garage was not there.
“Am I dreaming still?”
I went back into the house and went down to my room and was horrified when I saw my limp body still lying in a hospital bed. Why am I standing in a hospital in my house? Asleep? No, I was dead, but from what? How am I looking at myself doing two different things?
“What is happening to me? Am I going insane?”
I ran upstairs and tripped over my cat, who is always in the way when I am in a hurry. I hit my head on the table at the top of the stair case, which isn’t normally there.
“How did that get there.”
Ring. Ring. Ring. The phone was ringing, I rushed to answer it but on there other end of the line, there was silence. Then laughing, a laugh of a demon, causing chills to run down my spine and into my legs. My front door swung open to reveal three men in suits. They were talking to each other, not noticing my presence.
“Is this his house?”
“Yes, according to the address.”
“It’s too bad that people have to act that way.”
“Yeah, road rage is a serious problem.”
“It’s a shame that he had to go this way.”
So it wasn’t a dream. I really did follow that guy home. Why did I let my anger get to me?
“Was his family notified?”
“He had no family.”
Then I realized that they were right, I envy those who have families. I was alone, blinded by work. My work was all I had and I thought I was happy, but I was lonely. I envied those with a wife and kids. Someone to come home to everyday. All I had was my cat, who was more than that, my cat was the only thing I had other than work. But work was everything so, I must have neglected my cat. It is all clear now, but clear too late. I only realized this, when I stand next to the stretcher in which my body lay, in the hospital that is my house. If I could lead my life differently, what could I do differently? Something to prevent this fate.
Stricken with grief, I began to walk. I walked for hours, until I was too tired to continue. So I made a bed out of fig leaves and fell asleep. A deep peaceful slumber in which I did not wake until dawn.
When I awoke, I was in my own bed. I ran upstairs to check if my garage was back in it’s place, it was. But I had a bandage on my chest which covered the wound caused two days earlier because of my anger. That proved that it was not a dream, but what caused it. Perhaps it was God’s way of telling me that I need to find someone and start a family, so that I don’t die a lonely man. A man with only a cat and a job. I do not want to end up like yesterday’s me. Dead and Lonely.